


Teruk Vakar

by garbage_dono



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Aphrodisiacs, Ceremonial fucking, Confident Allura, Exhibitionism, F/M, It's that publc, Knotting, Like they fuck in an arena full of cheering fans, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbage_dono/pseuds/garbage_dono
Summary: “Teruk Vakar.”Lotor’s tongue curled around the words – reverently, salaciously – rolling off the R in a way that sounded to Allura almost like a purr.“It’s a hallowed tradition,” he said. “Dating back so many deca-phoebs that not even Dayak could tell you when it began.”“I’d rather you didn’t mention Dayak while we’re discussing things of this…nature,” she muttered, and a chuckle escaped under his breath. A moment later, his fingertips grazed over her cheek, his palm cupping the curve of her jawbone.He waited until she looked up and met his eye, and then said, “I would never make you do this, Allura. Not if you weren’t absolutely sure.”She let a smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Having second thoughts, are you?” That made his eyes gleam, his thumb catching the swell of her cheek, just under her right mark, as his other hand curled against her spine.“About you? Never.”





	Teruk Vakar

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dragging y'all to hell with me.

The wide, ornate door stretched above her, so high that she could barely make out its top edge. It was impossibly tall, heavy and solid, and yet she could hear them on the other side – cheering, screaming, chanting, their excitement building and pulsing until she could practically see the metal bulging from the force of it. She had no idea how many there were inside, how many were _waiting for her,_ but she did know one thing in her bones:

They were screaming for her.

Her heart pounded at the thought of it, her skin tingling underneath the ceremonial robe that she had draped over her bare shoulders. The paint that covered her skin in swirls of purple and white and gold shimmered, sleek and shiny in the light. She brought a hand up to trace the lines that ran all the way down the length of her arm to her fingertips, accenting her silver-polished nails.

They had been filed to sharp points. Just for the occasion.

She was ready. More than ready. She was _aching_ for it.

Her hand wandered down the hem of her rob, the sheer material draping over her knuckles as her fingers slid down the length of her own thigh. The sound of it…the crowd, the _roar –_ it was intoxicating. The thought of all of those eyes, hungry for her, desperate for her, all of them on their feet for her…and yet she knew there was only one pair of eyes that she really craved.

In a sea of hungry gazes, she would be his and his alone. And all of them would know. They would know without question.

She bit her lip as her fingers pressed between the folds of her sex. Wetness dripped over her knuckles, down the inside of her thigh, and she let out a sigh that got lost in the pulsing clamor of the crowds beyond the doors. The smell of incense and her own arousal swirled around her like a fog, and she let out a sighing moan.

Arousal thrummed through her, vibrating, quivering, tightening like a coil in her belly. She prayed the doors would open soon, before she completely went insane.

Finally, after what felt like an _eternity,_ they did, groaning and scraping as they swung out into the arena before her. The sound of it was impossibly loud, but it was drowned out just a moment later by the roar of the crowd. She felt it wash over her like raging water, deafening, powerful, pounding through her veins.

The arena was massive, arching up high above her in every direction, seemingly endless. And it was _full to the brim._

She let out a shaky breath. Just how long had she been holding it? The sound of the cheering crowd drew her in, and she stepped forward into the arena. The robe tickled her thighs with every step, sliding over her shoulders, her breasts, her back – she was hyper-aware of every piece of skin the fabric touched. It was electric, tingling like static. A steady breeze wicked the sweat from her brow.

Even despite that, her entire body felt like it was on fire. And then she saw him.

Across the stadium, he caught her eye – bare from the waist up, legs barely covered with loose, flowing fabric that accentuated the thick cords of muscle flexing under his skin with every step. Gold glinted on his arms, circling his biceps, drawing her eye over the lean length of his limbs, down to the tips of his fingers.

She turned, and they began the wide circle around the edge of the arena, Lotor’s eyes fixed on her, piercing into her, never leaving her as they cut a slow, tightening spiral with the crowd’s roaring and chanting echoing around them. The soil beneath her feet was soft and warm, her toes sinking into, filling her nose with the rich, earthy, heady scent.

She kept her eyes on him. They drew closer. Closer. Closer. Slowly – so agonizingly slowly. The sounds around them melted into a constant, deafening hum, all but drowned out by the pounding of her blood in her ears.

A quarter of the way through their wide, prowling spiral. He was hard, so hard that she could see it even from halfway across the arena, his erection pressing against the loose material of his pants. Her mouth watered.

Halfway through the path, and she was throbbing for him, so slick that she was dripping down her legs. Even as the robe slipped down over her shoulders, exposing her to the crowds, it felt stifling. She wondered if he could smell her.

Just one more revolution around the arena before they would reach each other, and Allura glanced up and caught sight of herself, projected on the screen above: skin gleaming with sweat and paint, robe draped over her sides, long gold chain dipping down between her breasts and over her hips. Her hair was pulled back from her face, but it too looked like it was on the verge of breaking free – like there was no part of her that could stand to be held back any longer.

Three, two, one more step, and they met in the center of the arena, staring each other down from opposite sides of a platform covered in rich perfume and littered with thornflower petals. He drew in a breath.

The crowd, she realized, had gone silent.

Her heart hammered against her sternum.

Lotor licked his lips, his eyes wild, face flushed, brow glistening. She glimpsed the flash of a jewel that caught the light – a deep violet gem adorning his tongue.

The onlookers in the stands hummed, intrigued. Mesmerized.

Lotor moved – just a half step forward, toward her – and something inside of her _snapped._ She surged toward him, vaulting over the platform, pressing her hands against his chest and feeling the heat of his body seeping into her before she sank to her knees.

A collective gasp rattled its way through the crowd when she ripped down the fabric covering him and swallowed him down. To the hilt.

He was slick and hot, throbbing and hard against her tongue, against her throat. It was perfect, exquisite. Only outmatched by the deep, rumbling growl that tripped from his throat – it was louder and clearer to her even than the voice over the arena loudspeakers exclaiming: “ _The princess is on her knees!_ ”

Yes, she was, and yet she had never felt as though she was standing so tall, commanding such undivided, rapt attention.

Lotor was precisely where she wanted him – obedient, exposed, completely at her mercy.

His eyes were like yellow diamonds, gleaming in the bright, fog-wrapped light as he stared down at her. Unblinking. Captivated. She drew back just enough to feel the ridges of his cock sliding against her lips and swallowed him down again, and as her tongue teased at his knot, his eyes fluttered closed.

She reached up, pressed a hand against his chest. _No – look at me. Watch me._

He opened his eyes again without hesitation, and if her mouth weren’t so thoroughly _occupied,_ she would have smiled. The pads of her fingers wandered across his ribs, over the chains that adorned his chest, her thumb teasing at the edge of his stretched and swollen sheath.

He bit his lip. Choked back a groan. Kept his eyes on her.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

 _Good,_ she told him with her gaze as her tongue laved over the ridges of his cock. _So good. So perfect. And mine. All mine._

She gripped the backs of his thighs, let him feel her nails, sharpened just for the occasion.

 _Mine._ She swallowed around him.

 _Mine._ She squeezed his hip.

 _Mine._ She pulled back enough to suckle on the tip of him, pads of her fingers teasing his stretched, glistening sheath.

The audience – she’d almost forgotten them – let out what sounded like a collective growl. It sounded like approval. Like encouragement. Then Lotor pressed a hand against her cheek and everything else but the warmth of his palm faded from her consciousness.

She glanced up at him, finding his brow pinched and his lip caught between his pointed teeth, breath hitched and shuddering on its way in. She knew that face.

“ _It seems the emperor’s stamina is being tested._ ” The words echoed across the arena from the loudspeakers, tinged with amusement. Lotor huffed.

She pulled back with an obscene wet _pop._ Her voice was hoarse, like a deep, rasping growl as she said, “Not yet.”

Oh no, not yet. She had _plans_ for that knot of his.

She reached up tucked her fingers under the chain draped around his neck, looped it around her knuckles and gave it a sharp tug. His lip curled up over his teeth, his fangs flashing in the light as he let her move him, let her pull him to the platform at the center of the arena. Flower petals fluttered to the ground, tickling her ankles and toes when she spun him around, pressed him against the edge of the platform.

He was smiling at her – grinning. The flush on his face reached all the way out to the tips of his ears and the top of his chest.

As she moved to press herself overtop of him, he nipped at her neck, claws curling against her hip. “They’re expecting _me_ to mount _you,_ ” he told her, sounding endlessly amused. “That’s the Galra way.”

“And this is _my_ way,” she replied. She pinned his shoulders down against the surface – the platform was hard and unyielding, but warm to the touch. Almost hot. Like coals kissing her knees as she swung one leg over his hips and straddled him. “Do you think they’ll have a problem with that?”

The voices ringing out from the crowd all melded together, an unintelligible garble of barks and cheers, stomping and clamoring, fists bashing against metal and voices rough with fervor. “Oh my dear,” he breathed, eyes darkening as he arched himself up and let his tongue trace along her jaw. “They _adore_ you.”

* * *

_“Teruk Vakar.”_

_Lotor’s tongue curled around the words – reverently, salaciously – rolling off the R in a way that sounded to Allura almost like a purr._

_“It’s a hallowed tradition,” he said. “Dating back so many deca-phoebs that not even Dayak could tell you when it began.”_

_“I’d rather you didn’t mention Dayak while we’re discussing things of this…nature,” she muttered, and a chuckle escaped under his breath. A moment later, his fingertips grazed over her cheek, his palm cupping the curve of her jawbone._

_He waited until she looked up and met his eye, and then said, “I would never make you do this, Allura. Not if you weren’t absolutely sure.”_

_She let a smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Having second thoughts, are you?” That made his eyes gleam, his thumb catching the swell of her cheek, just under her right mark, as his other hand curled against her spine._

_“About you? Never.”_

* * *

Cold metal dragged across Allura’s thighs as she rolled her hips, rocking, _pressing_ back against him. He let out a strangled grunt, claws digging into her waist just hard enough to make her shiver, and she grinned at him as she felt the tip of his cock nudging against her folds.

“Would you still care to have me stop so you can do this the _Galra_ way?” she teased.

“Don’t – _nh!_ ” The first press inside was delectable, the stretch of it chasing all thoughts of the cheering, screaming onlookers from her mind. “ _Don’t you dare._ ”

With every inch, every _ridge_ of him that slid inside, the arena seemed to grow more quiet. Oh the stomping and yelling and chanting wore on and on – past the point where she was sure their throats must surely wear out – but Allura could barely hear it. There was no room in her mind for any sensation, any thought past Lotor’s length nestling inside of her, throbbing against her walls, hot and slick and _exquisite._ It saturated her with deep, thrumming pleasure – the scent of him, full and heady in her nostrils; the sound and heat of his breath against the shell of her ear.

By the time his knot nudged against her entrance, she was lost in it. Dizzy with it. Riding a high so incredible that she wondered if she would ever come down from it. And _ancients,_ she prayed that she wouldn’t.

His fangs brushed against her earlobe, closing down on the earring there and tugging gently. “They want to know if you can take my knot,” he hummed.

She was so lost in the swirling fog of pleasure enveloping her body that she could only answer with a shaky little, “ _Haaahhhh…_ ”

Lotor chuckled, palms resting on her hips. Bringing her back. Grounding her. Just enough for her to open her eyes and meet his. Sparkling cerulean fogged over with need, a deep violet flush covering the bridge of his nose, his hair wild and flying in every direction like a starburst.

 _Oh,_ this view was so very delightful.

“May I, my queen?”

That knot pushed against her, as if asking permission at the same time as its owner. Even as slick and ready as she was, it was still intimidatingly large – swollen and desperate from three movements that Lotor had spent denying himself any sort of release in preparation for their _Teruk Vakar._

And yet there was only one answer to his question. It came as easy as breathing. She pushed herself up against his chest, her palms centered just over his heart, and took him in to the sound of the crowd screaming to the rafters overhead.

* * *

_Allura tipped the glass cup against her lips, and a sweet, pungent flavor completely unlike all other Galra dishes she’d sampled exploded across her tongue. Tangy and floral with an aftertaste like fresh grass – it made her sigh as she swallowed down the first bit of it and watched a drop of it trickle down her finger._

_Without thinking she brought it to her lips and licked it off. Addictive._

_“Krasveig,” Dayak said, more harshly than she thought the wonderful drink deserved, “-is a ceremonial brew distilled from the fruit of the krasbaum tree. Only three specimens of the species survived the destruction of Daibazaal.” She reached out and tipped the cup forward toward Allura’s mouth again. “So drink up.”_

_It was no trouble finishing off the drink. In fact, she wished for more. “Lotor said it’s some kind of…aphrodisiac.”_

_“That’s oversimplifying things,” Dayak huffed. “Krasveig is reserved only for the Teruk Vakar. It calms the nerves and…heightens the senses.” She took the cup from Allura’s hand, filling it with water and handing it back to her. It was all the prompting Allura needed to drink – the sweetness of the krasveig clung to her teeth and tongue so tightly that she wondered if she’d ever be able to taste anything else._

_“But an aphrodisiac…no. It cannot conjure what isn’t there. Its effects take almost a quintant to peak, and even under its most potent strength, when you enter that hallowed arena, you will do so of your own volition.” She arched one brow. “As you will do anything within those walls.”_

_As Allura swallowed the last of the fruit-tinged water, she wondered just how it would feel._

* * *

“ _S-she did it!_ ” The voice booming over the arena sounded astonished. “ _She took the knot – like it was nothing!_ ”

The words rang in her ears, vibrating across her bare skin and intensifying the feeling of cool air kissing it as she let out a shuddering sigh. Lotor pulsed gently inside of her, stretching her to her limit, pulling a raspy moan from her throat when he squirmed. She let her hair fall down over her shoulders, tickling his chest and chin as she let a smile creep onto her face.

She’d done it. He was _hers,_ and now every single person in the stands knew that just as well as he did.

Lotor’s neck was stretched back, tendons bulging underneath his skin as his fangs gleamed in the light. His jaw clenched so tightly she thought he would crack them right then and there. Sweat dripped down his temples, a choked groan ripping its way from his throat.

Three movements without release. It seemed he had held to tradition, judging from the look on his face. He was like a bowstring pulled to its breaking point. “I think,” she breathed, feeling almost euphoric as the krasveig coursed through her. “I’ve made an impression.”

“Nnh…”

Allura couldn’t resist the urge to rock her hips forward, grunting at the beautiful burn of Lotor’s knot dragging out of her before popping back in again when she pressed down.

“Ah – Allura…hhaaahhhh…”

She giggled. “Hm?”

“I…” Lotor swallowed, his hips trembling, his claws digging into the swell of her thighs. “I need…”

“To mount me in the Galra way?” she teased, easily rocking back and forth against him, grinding down against his pubic bone and letting out a gasp when he brushed against the perfect spot within her to drive her back up into the stars again. “To take me?” She let her head drop back until her hair brushed against her spine. Exposing herself to him. To them all. “To knot me until all of them know I’m yours?”

When she looked down at him again, his eyes were wide black voids – blazing, _starving._ Barely a breath later he pulled himself up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest, and he _thrust_ up into her with such force that she felt it rattle through her entire body.

He stared at her, eyes locked on her like she was the only thing in the entire arena worth his gaze, and for a moment he stilled. Fully seated within her, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat, deep violet splashing all across his face and ears and chest, he watched as she breathed in shuddering little gasps.

“ _Fury,_ you are beautiful,” he murmured, and Allura’s breathing stopped entirely.

Letting it all out in one long, shaking sigh, she let her forehead rest against his, and confusion seemed to sweep through the arena like a rolling storm. The cheers quieting, the stomping petering out until it was nearly silent.

She could feel him shaking beneath her, holding back instincts so deeply rooted that he couldn’t fight them much longer. It made her smile, and she opened her eyes to lock with his again. “I think I’ve proven my desire well enough,” she told him, and she let her fingers comb through his hair and relished the way his eyes closed on a hum. Surrendering. Giving himself over to the exquisite urge. “Now prove your own.”

As if it wasn’t already so extraordinarily obvious.

His eyes snapped open again, and before Allura could take another breath, the world was flipping around and her back hit the hot slab beneath them.

* * *

_“We’re not meant to – anh! – meet like this…before the ceremony.”_

_Allura’s words were muffled against Lotor’s lips, his wandering hands driving away any more as they slid up her spine. The robes draped over their bodies were large enough for them to drown in, soft and supple and yet unimaginably stifling. “Feeling the effects of the krasveig?” he asked her, nibbling on her lip. From the flush on his face, it seemed she wasn’t the only one. “Can you blame me if the thought of waiting another varga to claim you feels like an insurmountable task?”_

_“You’re not making it any easier.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Desperate to have him against her in any way she could. Her body pulsed with that need – ached with it._

_“Oh, just wait, my darling,” he sighed against her jaw. “Our Teruk Vakar will shake the foundations of that arena so deeply that there will never be another like it.”_

_She let her head fall back against the wall, his mouth attacking her neck as she laughed brightly. “Thinking awfully highly of yourself.”_

_“Not myself, no.” He grinned wickedly at her. “I know it will be a thing to remember because of one fact, my love. That they have never seen anyone like you before.” He held her face between his hands, palms rough and calloused against her soft cheeks. “They will never forget you. Not for ages to come.”_

* * *

Bliss – singular and unrelenting. It pulsed through her in powerful waves, pounding through her body and rattling her bones with every thrust. Every push and drag of Lotor’s knot within her, ever breath that left him on a guttural moan, every undulating flex of his muscles beneath her fingers…it drove every thought from Allura’s mind except thoughts of him. Of the pleasure sweeping through her body, so potent and unwavering that it felt like she was already in the throes of a continuous orgasm. She held him, pulled him _closer,_ squeezed him _tighter,_ desperate for every inch of contact she could manage.

Lotor was lost in it, completely at the mercy of the desires pulsing through him, and Allura was _spellbound_ by it. She watched, entranced by the way his face contorted in pleasure – the wrinkle on the bridge of his nose, the curl of his lips, the flush at the tips of his ears.

The crowd around them was _wild,_ the sound of them deafening, but Allura barely cared at all about the noise or the eyes on them. Everything else faded away. Everything but Lotor’s face, his body, the pounding of her own blood in her ears.

She wasn’t sure what caused a sudden shift in the pit of her stomach, as if every tendril of pleasure spread out across her body began to concentrate and pool – like a building climax but unimaginably more intense. Growing and tightening, coiling and trembling for so long that she could barely stand it. Could barely breathe. Every cell in her body _screamed_ for release, for _relief,_ but Lotor drove her higher and higher still, to a peak she could barely _fathom-_

She gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, legs locking around his hips, and just as she managed to draw in a rough, desperate breath – like she was breaking the water’s surface at the edge of drowning – he threw his head back and _roared._ It was an animal-like sound, one that exploded out of him from sheer instinct, and _oh –_ she could feel him pulsing inside of her, knotting her, _filling_ her-

The bowstring snapped, and the world blazed white.

For how long she stayed there, barely coherent as pleasure surged through her, she didn’t know. It seemed to last for vargas, and when she finally came down again she was sure she would melt right into the platform.

She floated, warm and content. Slowly – ever so slowly – the sounds of the crowds drifted back into the periphery of her consciousness. But it was Lotor’s breathing that pulled her back fully: heavy, panting breaths that puffed hot against her collarbone as he lay there, spent and exhausted, his hair a matted mess splayed across her chest.

She carded her fingers through it, ignoring the cheers and screams of the crowd as she managed a sleepy smile. His knot was swollen and tight within her, holding them together and pulsing softly against the heat of her body.

Stars, she didn’t know it was possible to be so deeply, primally satisfied.

She barely noticed a figure to the side until a blanket was thrown overtop of them both, shielding them from the eyes of the crowd for the first time since they’d stepped into the arena. Before she knew it the platform was being lifted right up from its base, and they were carried toward the entrance while the onlookers stomped and clawed at the walls.

The mating was for all to see – a show of vigor and prowess. But this, their bodies entwined and settling deep into the haze of afterglow, was private. Allura held him close as they were brought to a dimly lit room, full of soft blankets and pillows and smelling of earthy incense, and soon the doors were closed and they were alone.

“It’s more intimate than the mating itself,” Lotor had told her once before. “Being joined in that way…Galra consider that to be intimacy of the highest caliber and not to be shared.”

Now he couldn’t manage such an eloquent explanation. Instead he looked up at her, bleary-eyed and weary, and said, “Mmmmmngh…”

She smiled, nuzzling the top of his head and dropping a kiss there. “Mine,” she murmured, and the last thing she saw was Lotor’s soft, lazy grin before she closed her eyes and let herself sleep.


End file.
